stones

Gray.The overcast skies had the colour of deadened stones, and seemed closer than usually, as though they were phlegmatically observing my every movement with their apathetic emptily blue-less eyes; each tiny drop of hazy rain drifting around resembled transparent molten steel, the pavement looked like it was about to burst into disconsolate tears, even the air itself was gray, so ultimate and ubiquitous that colour was everywhere around me.Gray...

You'll never reach your destination if you stop to throw stones at every dog that barks.

When stumbling blocks can become stepping stones, then these stones that the builders reject can equally become chief corner stones!

You must stay focused, concentrating on the work at hand. Consistency makes the rain drops to create holes in the rock.

When you believe in yourself as a great asset God created for a reason, you will rename your major successes as mere stepping stones because there are greater things that eyes have not yet seen through you, and all are embedded in the value you have in your room; remember that value is you!

Our confidence is not in what we have, but He who freely gave us what we have. If God's will is in your little stones, they will surely bring down giant Goliaths... but you have to make the throw!

Pretty Stones

Trust is like a glass vase, beautiful except there is no way of putting it back together when it breaks.

In the forestlichen writhes and assembles itself into signs to light my path through the deep dark north shadow; and I emerge at last onto a hillside strewn with logogrammatic stones, and scramble away from spruce tops." in the poem "Beyond the Beacon" from Terra Affirmative.

There were only the great diamonds and sapphires and emerald mists and velvet inks of space, with God's voice mingling among the crystal fires.

Sense howEven the smooth stones acheWith stories of their ownIn the shuddering light of day.

you have to have the right sort of stone. Peridot for mothers, girasol for lovers, sapphire for sadness, and garnet for joy.

But it turned out life was more like the kind of song the Stones wrote: you didn't get any satisfaction, you took one hit to the body after another, if you were a woman you were a bitch who belonged under someone's thumb, and if you wanted mother's little helper from your dear doctor you better have the silver, take it or leave it, and don't come crying for sympathy, that was just for the devil.

The great mountains of wars and conflicts in the world can only be removed by picking up tiny stones of hatred and anger bit by bit. We must all be involved!

That old man over thereIs selling trinkets made of stonesThat old woman the entire worldIn a map without any hole!

Classic of '43. Don't knock it. A Vintage year.

Keith Richards on change_"It's gotta go up and down. Otherwise, you won't know the difference. It would be just a bland, straight line, like lookin' at a heart machine. And when that straight line happens, baby, you're dead.

I am beginning to believe that we know everything, that all history, including the history of each family, is part of us, such that, when we hear any secret revealed, a secret about a grandfather, or an uncle, or a secret about the battle of Dresden in 1945, our lives are made suddenly clearer to us, as the unnatural heaviness of unspoken truth is dispersed. For perhaps we are like stones; our own history and the history of the world embedded in us, we hold a sorrow deep within and cannot weep until that history is sung.